A pouchβ¦? For food? But Iβm not-
Your claws wrap around my wrist. I freeze on the spot. Yes, it is cold, and my skin is thinβ¦and you are so painstakingly warmβ¦ The benefit of a winterβs furβ¦
Point made, just this onceβ¦ You shouldnβt have to feel alone.
Iβm anxious, watching muzzle and maw yawn wide before me, a cavern of muted pinks under the fill moonβs glare. More looming than that-ivory fangs laced with a sheen I canβt ignore. An echo of finality whispers in my mind. I hesitate. You encourage a hesitant hand pushing in, letting me take things at my pace. I reach for a fang first, if for nothing else to ease my anxiety. You donβt bite down. The bone is hard beneath my hand and as large as my forearm.
Yes, they are sharp and scary, and I voice my knowledge that theyβre harmlessβ¦but theyβre teeth. Big teeth. Itβs very, very hard to not be afraid. I move away before the fear settles in too deeply. Your tongue is soft and rough all at once, eagerly lapping my fingers and drawing me further in. Itβs almost honoring how much the muscle pulls, trying to coax me in. Your body is starving for me, begging with all its might for this easy prey, but youβre able to control the drive to snap down and devour me. Itβs sweet. Weird, and grossβ¦but sweet.
Iβve pulled back now, admiring the dripping, starving, loving vat of velvet heat before me.
βIβm ready.β The words leave my lips before I fully realize it.
I blink. At once you set into motion. Your mouth closes and presses into my fists. My knuckles sink into those lips, and I flex my fingers against the strange feeling of whiskers against them. Too, I feel your hitching breath. Familiar claws wrap around my wrists again. This is it. This time, I donβt brace.
My stomach drops as those ivory daggers gleam against the moonβs glare. Your tongue greets my arms before I process your jaws opening wider, surging downwards. My mindβs eye flicks to summer afternoons sliding down a slip-and-slide. The heat and humidity feel similar. It helps quell the rising wariness. Iβve gotten this far, canβt back out now.
I watch and feel my hands slip further into your maw, surrounded by your heat, your breath. Muscles flex, pulling me deeper, and I feel my body try to brace against the alluring warmth curling around my chest and stomach. Thereβs nothing to brace against. My upper half is nearly fully inside your jaws, legs delicately covered by your claws. I feel my wrists reach the crest of your throat. Theyβre squished together, my hands pressing out in some animalistic need to escape.
Everything jolts forward. Instinctively, I gasp, and thatβs the last breath of air I get as muscles crush inward. Itβs pressure, so much pressure. I can feel heat and warmth and soft and pressure all at once, all-consuming. I canβt breathe oh god I canβt breathe, I canβt breathe and I canβt feel where I am and-
My hands push into open air. They feel around blindly as Iβm held in suspension. Thereβs another roll of motion before my face joins them, and my lungs greedily reclaim the oxygen theyβd yearned for from the soupy air. Dizzy from the sudden rush, I fall face first into your gut with a grunt. Itβs not uncomfortable, rubbery and soft, like an inflatable left too long in the sun. The walls shudder and mold around my fingers. I push out, trying to sort and ease myself inside of you.
Our discussion earlier rings through my mind, silencing any lingering alarm bells. An extra organ to hold⦠I am safe here.
The reminder is enough to ease some tension. I shift, push, wriggle myself into a ball, knees close to my chest, hands pushing out. I seek something solid, grounding, and find nothing. Thereβs no stability in this living hammock. Nothing but you surrounding me, sloshing me around as we both situate ourselves. Somehow, I donβt mind. All I can sense is you. Your heat, your breath, each rush of blood and each groan of organs. Youβre a warm pool heated by the summer sun, rippling muscles like the surface of the water as I sink further down. Iβm safe here, but I need something-
I push my hands out. Thereβs a quiet drum, a rhythm amidst all the chaos. Something grounding. Itβs quick for a moment. Then, slowly, it begins to draw out. It takes a moment for me to register the source.
βI can hear your heartbeat,β I murmur, pressing my fingers into the rippling flesh, seeking the gentle drum. After a moment, I feel you press back. I feel myself relax. Stress I didnβt know I had drifts away, bubbling away to a sunny surface I can no longer see. Iβm surrounded by you, someone I love, tucked away like a precious gem. And you, finally satisfied in a way I canβt understandβ¦itβs sweet.
Iβm not worried, dear. Iβll stay with you tonight. You have my word.
Maybe we can do this again.
